I was reminded that I haven't written about Dodo, the all-singing, all-dancing budgie much recently. So for those of you who need reassurance of his continuing existence - he's alive and flapping. He almost fell into my wine glass the other night, can say "Where have you BEEN?!?" just like my mother, and has an accurate passion radar. (By that, I mean he's driven into a frenzy of tweeting and falling off his perch when two people kiss underneath his cage. The glint in his eye on these occassions is verging on frightening.)

He very very almost flew from the front door a few days ago, and it was all my fault. I would never have forgiven myself. I would miss the little hot feet perched on my shoulder, the beak nibbling my earrings or grooming strands of loose hair. I'd even miss having my nose pecked to near nose-death. He only does it because he mistakes me for his fellow budgie friend, and that's what budgies do. Bite each other's noses.

Not that budgies have noses.